


In my arms lies Eternity

by BloodyBaroness



Series: Da'nehn Lavellan [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, pavellan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7456594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyBaroness/pseuds/BloodyBaroness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of very short to short drabbles about my Inquisitor, Da'nehn and his dashing lover, Dorian of house Pavus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soft kitty, warm kitty

**Author's Note:**

> This are short, very short. Sketches before a bigger story. But I like them and I think they are quite funny, so posting them here as well. I don't know how many will there be.

" _Vhenan_ , am I handsome?"  
  
"You are spending too much time with Cole!"  
  
"Answer the question! Am I handsome, by shemlen standards?"  
  
"You are a remarkably beautiful creature, you are stunning _Amatus_!"  
  
"... Beautiful creature. So I'm pretty, like a puppy?"  
  
"More like a kitten, you are hissing now I gather."  
  
"How am I supposed to enkindle respect in my allies and fear in those who oppose me being _pretty_?!"  
  
"Your palm glows green and you have bound a dreadful Tevinter magister to fullfill all your most wicked wishes."  
  
Da'nehn laughs "Have I now."  
  
"Now come, let me scratch your ear and pet your belly so you can purr for me a bit before anyone comes to steal you from me."


	2. Only after you learn how to say it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Da'nehn teaches Dorian some elvhen.

"Just repeat after me _vhenan_ : _aaar laath maaa_ ”

" _Ar ladh mha_ ” 

"Softer _vhenan_ : _lath_ ” 

Dorian puffed. “It’s pointless! My mouth is incapable of pronouncing such sounds!” 

"You mouth is very capable” said the elf. His piercing gaze and barely present smirk made Dorian blush. Da’nehn circled his lover slowly, placed himself closely behind his back and his lips almost touching Dorian’s earlobe. 

“ _Ar lath ma vhenan_ ” he whispered. The mage shuddered. 

“Will you ever indulge me with the meaning?” Dorian asked with a slightly trembling voice. He told himself it was from the cold breeze of mountain air. 

“Only after you learn how to say it.” Soft, warm breath on his neck definitely did not help assembling all his lingual skills. 

“I can always ask Solas...“ he whispered. Muffled cackle from behind him dissuaded him immediately. 

“Do it, I would very much like to see his face. Should we try now?” 

The mage put his hands on his hips and turned around. Da’nehn’s face, slightly flushed from giggling, eyes bright and piercing. Dorian couldn’t help but melt inside. 

“ _Festis bei umo canavarum_ “ he whispered under his breath and cleared his throat. “Okay, you win, this time! Say it again.” 


	3. Valla-something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Iron Bull cares for his friend Da'nehn in his own brutal ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Da'nehn is only mentioned in this chapter. Please skip if this does not please you. It is still about their relationship though.

"I knew you were a deviant, Vint, but I didn't know you had a taste for children!" Iron Bull's thunder voice and cackle and then his whole huge persona filled the space on the other side of the table in Herald's Rest. The inn was rather empty as it was barely noon, but the mage found himself worrying too much about the Inquisitor's current mission to focus on any kind of actual work. Sipping awful Fereldan beer on the other hand seemed like a perfect distraction.

"Whatever joke you are setting up with this I am definitely too sober to withstand." Dorian murmured and took another sip. Brrrr, awful concoction, this southern beer.

"A joke? Nooo." Bull threw his hands in the air and stretched with a loud crackle.

"I'll thank you not to do that again!"

The Qunari ignored Dorian's grimace and continued his initial tought.

"'m talkin' about your pretty _conquest_."

Bull's voice was light, playful even, but the piercing gaze of his only eye proved there was a serious note in this statement.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" snarled the mage.

"Yes, you do."

The Bull leaned forward, but stayed quiet. A waitress with rather noticeable pair of breasts and waterfall of red locks brought him a mug of something dark and foamy and walked away flushed and nervously giggling. Dorian started to wonder if the Qunari had already managed to fuck every single servant in the Skyhold, but he abandoned the thought as too repulsive.

"How old do you think he is?" Bull asked and took a sip from his mug. It looked so tiny in his huge palm. Dorian had to use both his hands to hold his.

"Whoever you..."

"Oh shut it! I am a spy, remember?" Bull hissed. There were visitors in Skyhold and as much as he found no shame in who he was, not everyone had to know.

Dorian abandoned his line of defense when Bull's penetrating look dwelled on him again.

"Oh I do not know. Twenty five? Thirty?" the mage studied the contents of his mug carefully. "He looks young, but that is elf thing, isn't it?"

Bull laughed deeply and heartily.

"Dalish, c'mere!" he said, but his voice carried like a shout.  
Dorian haven't noticed the skinny blonde elf leaning on a railing of the floor above. She sighed dramatically and slowly went down the stairs to join them by the table.

"What is it chief?" she asked, grabbing Bull's mug and taking a deep sip.

"Your tattoo, this valla-something, when did you receive it?"  
She looked at him like he had just grown another pair of horns, but answered.

"I was seventeen."

"And that was how long ago?" Bull pushed.

"You don't ask a woman her age!" she snorted, taking another sip of Bull's drink. "Seven years ago."

Dorian was studying her face. Her vallaslin was different than Da'nehns. Green, thin lines, tiny triangles decorating some of them. Part of the tattoo started to fade. It still contrasted beautifully with bright pink make up she usually wore though.

"Thanks Dalish, you may go now." The elf snorted and left the table, with Bull's mug held carefully with her both hands. He pretended not to notice.

"Her tattoo is seven years old." the Qunari started again when she was out of his voice's reach. Dorian studied carefully stains on the table. "It's starting to fade, some lines are already blurred."

"Whatever's your endavour, I'm not..."

Bull ignored his protest.

"His tattoo is bright, fresh, sharp, but fully healed. Ask me, I say it's a year or two old."

Dorian gasped. He of course noticed Da'nehn was a little shy in the sheets and obviously less experienced, but he had thought it came from him being brought up in a small community of Dalish clan. He never thought...

"He is twenty, at most..." he whispered, more to himself than to Bull. He didn't notice when Bull was brought another round of drink, but the Qunari was slurping it with his eye closed.

"Smart boy!" he finally laughed, placing empty mug on the edge of the table. "He may be the inquisitor, the herald and what-not" Bull added less playfully "but he's still just a boy, and probably scared shitless of all this" he wiggled his hand around, all this meaning probably this whole Inquisition business of saving the world and finding lost druffalos.

"What's your point?" Dorian asked finally, when he gathered enought courage to look the Bull in the eye.

"Toy with him" the Qunari whispered through his teeth, leaning forward "or hurt him..." Dorian gulped loudly "and I'll snap your neck mage boy."


	4. A leaf on the wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian is left in the Skyhold and tries to distract himself with some soppy literature.  
> Sort of follow up to talk from chapter 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbetad and will probably stay that way as I have noone to beta stuff I write. I know I tend to mess up tenses, I'm sorry to anyone offended, I am no native speaker.

„Kaffas!” Dorian swore when realized he’d been staring at the same word in ancient Tevene manuscript for better part of the afternoon. Tattered piece of parchment was placed carefully on the top of stash of similar scraps. After all, his annoyance was not enough reason to treat academic research material like a barbarian!

He’d been grateful for the first week. After all he’d been the loudest in his complaints about the smell of Fallow Mire and his robes ruined beyond repair. For next four weeks he’d simply missed Da’nehn. His voice and his laugh, his footsteps on the stairs to library, even his half-trade half-elvhen mumblings with Solas from the floor below. The bald mage was gone too, they had found ruins the Inquisitor had wanted his knowledge about deep in the mire.

Now he was annoyed. What was taking them so long? 

He stretched, looking out the window in his alcove in the Skyhold’s library. There were young mages training in the battlements, watched closely by Grand Enchanter Vivienne and three of Ser Barris’ Templars, focused closely on each move of the sparring casters. Dorian considered joining them, but decided against. He was unable to focus and being beaten by a callow mage would certainly not raise his spirits. 

“A message, lord” he heard behind him. One of Leliana’s boys was standing by his nook in a slight bow, with a piece of parchment in his hand. 

The mage took it, nodding in thanks. It was tiny, but had a huge red seal of the Inquisition on it. He snorted. Da’nehn mocking the protocol was probably the cause of some new gray hair on head of both the Seeker and the Ambassador. Dorian liked it. There were enough people with sticks up their arses around, all could use a bit of humor. 

He broke the seal and carefully opened the message. The elf’s penmanship was something to admire. Sweeping, decorative but clear and even. Dorian sometimes pretended his hand was tired just to get his notes done by his lover, even if it meant spelling each Tevene word letter by letter. Da’nehn pretended to fall for that as long as there were apples involved.

_“We had to stop in Redcliffe. Nothing serious. Missing you beyond words. Two weeks.”_

Below those words were his initials, sweeping F.L. It was probably twentieth message Lavellan signed this day, so he used his official signature out of habit. Dorian knew the young hunter hated his first name. He would probably hate his too, had he been named Halward.

To his amusement rest of the paper was covered by a sketch. A smutty sketch, to be precise, obscene even. A very detailed promise of things to come after Lavellan’s back from his mission, or so the mage hoped.

Among many talents the elf possessed, some of which were confined to his or Dorian’s bedchamber only (and sometimes their tent, a mountain stream or a bush), drawing was one the mage was surprised with. One of gifts he held most dear was drawing of him naked in Da’nehn’s armchair, drinking wine and reading. For the lack of paints, it was colored with tea and said wine. The elf explained it was sometimes hard to come by proper painting tools in their travels, so he learned to work with what was available. It reminded him to ask Lady Ambassador if there was any chance the watercolor paints he secretly asked her to order would come any sooner than the Inquisitor.

His eyes dwelled on half empty bottle of wine residing safely away from precious manuscripts, below the table. Dorian knew Da’nehn didn’t like him drinking like this, but Da’nehn wasn’t there and he was the main reason the mage couldn’t focus! It was a childish execuse and he knew it.

Finally Dorian decided to leave his nook and check the new shelves with lighter Orlesian literature that Lady Ambassador had recently conveyed for less academic needs of growing population of Skyhold. Might as well amuse himself with fiction, utterly unable to get any work done.

As one may suspect, literature for the masses was covered in more colorful and glittery ways than academic tomes, it was also definitely thinner. Sweeping the shelves with his trained eye, Dorian immediately skipped the large tomes on the bottom. He was looking for entertainment for one afternoon, not a month. A bright red volume, size of travel pouch, caught his attention. It was thin, leather was soft and first three words he saw leafing through it did not imply a poor smut. Satisfied, Dorian returned to his armchair and opened the book.

_“A leaf on the wind”_ the title said. “Mysterious enough” thought Dorian and flipped the page. It soon turned out to be a slightly soppy romance between a human apostate mage named Michel and Dalish hunter Linna secretly nursing him back to health after his blood boiling escape from the circle. To his surprise he found himself rather involved in the story. It wasn’t very deep, but well written and it had some interesting turns. Soon, he had to light some candles, as the daylight dimmed into early evening, and there was only few of pages left in the book.

The Templars had found Michel’s hideout in the woods and he was dragged from his lover’s embrace. Dorian hoped for a happy ending, it was a light romance, after all, but read through the story with his teeth clenched.

_“’Leave him shems!’ she screamed from the top of her lungs, desperately pulling her bow._  
_‘He is an apostate! He belongs in the Circle!’ rumbled one of the Templars._  
_‘Over my dead body!’ Linna’s naked breasts stopped moving as she aimed._  
_‘Can do!’ said the Templar and moved to charge._  
_Michel shook his head and screamed. ‘No! Linna, don’t! I will go! Leave her!’_  
_The archer breathed out, tears already flowing from her cheeks._  
_‘Vhénan…’ she cried. ‘Ar lað ma…’”_

Dorian’s heart felt like it skipped a beat or two. The transliteration was a bit different, but it was definitely it. The phrase Da’nehn refused to translate. He bit his lower lip and flipped the page.

_“The mage looked her in the eyes one last time ‘I love you too.’ He said and the Templars dragged him out.”_

Dorian froze.

_“I love you too.”_

_“Ar lath ma”  
“I love you.”_

He closed the book. Two weeks. He had two weeks to become the best elvhen speaker among humans in Thedas. Anything to hear Da’nehn say it.

Anything so he could respond.


	5. Bullshit detectors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian confronts Da'nehn about his age. As silly as it gets between those two dorks.

"So... what's on your mind?"

Da'nehn stretched and arched his back closer to Dorian's stroking hand. They were both still hot, skin steaming in cold breeze.

"What do you mean?" Dorian asked vacantly.

"You were... different tonight." Da'nehn reached back and stroked the mage's hand softly. "More... um... gentle?"

He felt his lover's hand stop on his ribs.

"I like trying new things with you, that's all."

"Like lying?" The elf sat rapidly and looked Dorian straight in the eye.

"What?"

"I have huge ears if you haven't noticed vhenan. They're great bullshit detectors."

Dorian snorted. The elf had a talent of putting together jokes even in most serious moments. He knew he would not mind a tiny giggle as he was well aware of this ability.

"So?" Da'nehn grabbed the mage's hand and started stroking Dorian's fingers with his thumb.

"It's occurred to me..." Dorian started, but words escaped him and everything he put together in his mind sounded silly. "It's occurred to me that you are... slightly younger than I initially thought."

A huge sigh left the mage's chest and only then he decided to look into his lover's eyes again. He definitely didn't expect amusement glimmering in them.

"Slightly?" the elf asked, obviously entertaining himself. "How old do you think I am?"

"T... twenty?"

Da'nehn snorted, looked at Dorian again and let out a huge, chest pounding laugh. The mage was startled. Did Bull really lead him on?

"Well um... I thought..."

"I'm will be twenty Dorian, next month" said the elf, still laughing. "Is that a problem for you?"

Da'nehn let go of Dorian's hand and lifted himself.

"Do you feel old bedding a youngling like me?" he murmured, straddling his lover and looking him deeply in the eyes.

"Nonsense!" Dorian denied, half-heartedly.

"If I need a nanny" the elf whispered to the left side of the mage's neck "I can always go to Cassandra. If I need my mommy" he murmured to his right ear "I have the Bull."

He framed his lover's face with his hands and placed each word on his lips, like a kiss:

"I need you, Dorian... Ma vhenan... My lover... My safe place in this madness."

The mage shivered.

"I... I can do that" he said.

"Don't you think" Da'nehn wiggled his hips "you owe me for holding back on me tonight?"

**Author's Note:**

> See the master of mischef here: http://da-nehn.tumblr.com/


End file.
